All the Good Ones
by dozefallsdownthestairs
Summary: Jaded and lazy college senior Arthur Kirkland decides to drop the act as he mentors his group of newly arrived freshmen. Freshman Alfred Jones refuses to see anything but the bright side. Even if college is determined to beat him into submission. USUK college AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all!**

 **This story is really just my measly attempt on a college AU. I've always wanted to write one and now that I am in college I figured, you know, why not?**

 **Some guidelines:**

 **1) This is a small selective American liberal arts college in a rural setting.**

 **2)RAs share floors because floors are huge (I don't know if this weird, but it happens at my college). RAs also function as something called Links. Links are upperclassmen students that help underclassmen students figure out where things are and adjust to the new environment.**

 **3)This story has a large theme of grades. Are grades as important as they're made out to be? If someone has bad grades are they stupid or lazy? Etc. I just really wanted to write a story for peeps who've spent ages bashing their heads in for the right grade and get a D.**

 **All that said, please enjoy!**

* * *

Alfred Jones slams the car door with a finality that fitted the occasion. Before him a tussle of different people lug bedding sets and mini fridges up the hills of his new college campus. His dorm building, ancient and decrepit as any hall of history, slouches in all its rustic glory. Fingering his freshly given ID, Alfred turns to smile brilliantly at his mother.

"I think I forgot deodorant."

She grabs the bill of his hat and gives it a tug. "I knew you weren't ready for this. You should just get back in the car now."

"I should." Alfred agrees seriously, adjusting his university hoodie like it was a matter of pride. "I'd hate to soil the name of such a great college with my..."

"Stench." His mother fills eloquently, going around the side of the car to open the trunk. "Now, come on, you're lifting most of this stuff."

Unable to be annoyed on this awesome day, Alfred skips over to grab the tower fan and his duvet. "Let's go. I wanna see my room."

Too many flights of stairs later, they stand in the cramped quarters that will be Alfred's home base for the rest of the year. He throws his stuff on the only empty bed, contemplating what kind of a person his roommate must be to have such busty photos on the walls. His mother's overdramatic sigh prompts him to give her a sheepish smile.

They don't talk much as they unload the car. Alfred is excited enough to wet himself, decked out in university gear from his head to his toes. He lets his mother do most of the organizing, instead dedicating himself to tacking the university pendant proudly on his wall.

"You'll have to find your cousin," His mom murmurs absently as she sets up his flimsy shelving. "Do you know what dorm he's staying in?"

Alfred frowns, glancing down the hallway of packed freshman. "I think he said Stillman? I don't know, ma. I'll worry about that later. I'm sure he doesn't want a freshman tailing him all the time."

His mother rolls her eyes. "Matthew is sweet, Alfred. If you ever need help, you shouldn't hesitate to ask him."

"Okay, mom," Alfred sighs, wishing his roommate would return. He wants to meet the boy with these hot photos.

"Alfred, that was our agreement," She pushes, suddenly stern. "I'm allowing you to go so far away and you have to check up with Matthew every other week or so."

"I know, ma," Alfred rolls his eyes. "I'm 18 now. I won't starve."

She gives him a skeptical look.

"Anyway," Alfred pushes on, flopping down on his freshly made bed. "We have Link groups, remember? There's supposed to be some older student assigned to answer our questions. I'll just bug him."

"Like this Link group nonsense will be helpful."

"Hey! At least they're not just unleashing us on campus with no direction! It's just for orientation anyway, ma."

"I know," she smiles, shoving the shelves away and standing up. "What do you think?"

"Looks great," Alfred flashes her a grin. "Are you done now?"

"Alfred." She chastises. "I won't be seeing you until Christmas. At least act like you'll miss me."

Alfred's eyes soften, but he hides it by coughing into his elbow. "Right, mom. We talked about this. Keep the gushiness to a min."

She holds out her arms and he reluctantly embraces her, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I'm so proud of you," she murmurs, actually sounding sad. "I knew you could get in and you're going to do great things, Alfie."

"Thanks, ma." He clears his throat and blinks his eyes quickly. "I'll call later."

"That's my son," She chuckles, putting a quick kiss to his cheek before he could pull away. "Remember: No stupidity. Keep the junk food to a minimum. And study for god's sake."

"You think I wouldn't study?" Alfred asks her incredulously.

She smirks. "You might be surprised what'll distract you here. You won't expect it at all."

"I love you, mom."

"Love you, Al. Call later!"

And then she was gone.

Alfred turns to collapse backwards onto his mattress. It's a lot more uncomfortable than his one at home, but he'll manage. This is college after all! He has to remember to pick up his textbooks from the bookstore and they have a meeting with their Link group later this evening. He's not sure he knows where the dining hall is and he for sure doesn't know where the laundry machines are. An exhilarating rush pulses through him as he realizes that he'll have to figure it out all on his own.

He lays there for awhile just listening to the sounds of people moving in. Someone, maybe even in this dorm building, will be his best buddy. And maybe someone will be his girlfriend. Hell, maybe someone will be his wife! His heart stutters uncomfortably at that one, and he carefully designates it to the box it belongs to. There'll be plenty of time to worry about that.

His nose crinkles as he thinks of Matthew and Katsusha, being all lovey dovey on the couch the other day. Yeah, romance can wait.

Alfred smiles to himself, checking to make sure his roommate hasn't snuck in yet. "I'm in college," he murmurs, grinning like an idiot. He can't help it. He worked really hard to get here. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined getting accepted at an institution like this.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed, adjusting his university baseball cap in the mirror. Time to unleash himself on the world and get some bros.

"Hey, you need help with that?" He calls, darting out in the hall as he notices another guy struggling to drag along a flatscreen TV box.

"Oh, hello amigo. That would be helpful." The other guy straightens up cheerily. He has a deep tan and olive green eyes. A tight V-neck shirt clings to his lean body along with a pair of tight-fitting khakis. His heavy Spanish accent causes Alfred's eyes to go wide. He wonders how many other people that go here are foreigners.

"Sure thing," Alfred kneels to take the other end. "I'm Alfred, by the way."

"Antonio," The boy flashes him a smile. "You live on this floor?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, then, I am your RA."

0 0 0

"I fucking hate Stillman," Arthur Kirkland complains loudly, whirling on Francis Bonnefoy with an accusing finger. "I agreed to RA a floor with you in anywhere but fucking Stillman. Were you not listening to me when I said that?"

Francis raises his eyebrows. "I don't see what you're talking about. Stillman is close to your classes and the quad. And there happens to be quite of bit of alcohol available at all times."

Arthur snorts, dragging himself up to sit on the railing of the steps. The place is mostly deserted as only a few upperclassmen are required to move in early along with the freshman. As RAs of the fifth floor of Stillman, he and Francis Bonnefoy belong to that group. "You're not just a wanker. You're an idiotic wanker." Arthur growls after reassuring himself that no one he cares to impress is around. He pulls out a cigarette waving it at Francis like a sword. "Stillman is the party dorm and we are in charge of it. Can you even begin to comprehend how much of a pain in the ass that will be?"

"Free housing is worth it in my opinion." Francis shrugs uncaringly. "Plus my Link group can have the good spot near the lake. Where are you meeting your group?"

"Library," Arthur blows out a stream of smoke as he checks something on his phone.

"Should have figured," Francis rolls his eyes.

"Well, God knows they'll need it," Arthur chuckles darkly, wiggling his cigarette up and down with his teeth. "I reckon some of them haven't even read a book."

"You mean like you hadn't?"

Arthur smirks, "I still don't bother to most of the time."

Francis rolls his eyes again, feeling that the action is the only one he can take when in his friend's company. "Just don't let the freshman on to the fact that you keep alcohol in your dorm. The others don't care, but the freshman will complain."

"They won't." Arthur retorts, swinging down from the railing suddenly. "We'll develop a mutual understanding on this point."

"And that is?"

"They can have theirs and I can have mine, but the second they make it an issue I can have theirs and I can have mine."

"How they ever let you be an RA is beyond me." Francis falls into step beside him as they head down the wooded path.

"I have a good track record," Arthur claims somewhat defensively. "What they don't know about... won't kill them."

"Right," Francis brushes his blonde hair behind his ears. "Don't look now, but the caravan has arrived."

"Ugh," Arthur took one look at the mass of cars and people, turning on his heel in the other direction. "Let's get something to eat before it gets crowded."

0 0 0

"Umm, do you know where the library is?" Alfred asks, trying not to let the tension into his voice.

Antonio blinks at him, coming back from some daydream. As soon as they'd stepped outside, he'd closed his eyes, thrown his head back and started soaking in the sun.

"The library?" Antonio stops dead in the path. "Now, my friend, I know this is a competitive school, but no one has started studying just yet."

Alfred laughs, "Ah no, man. My Link group is meeting there in like ten minutes."

"Ah, Link group," Antonio smirks knowingly. "I had forgotten about that. Who is your Link?"

"Uhh," Alfred swings his backpack off his shoulder to fish out the paper. "Kirkland? Arthur Kirkland. You know him?"

Antonio's lips twitch downwards and he looks away. "Of course, I know him. He is a friend of a friend's."

"What? You don't like him?" Alfred demands. His heart drops to his shoes. Damn, he'd been hoping for a cool senior.

"No," Antonio chuckles warmly, wrinkling his nose. "He is just fine. I only think... well, I will not say it. If you can get him to like you, you'll be right as rain. If not," Antonio shrugs. "He is not pleasant. The library is over that way, behind the English building. I will see you later, Alfred. I should probably find my Link group, now that I think about it." He delivers a hapless smile and a wave.

Alfred watches him go rather hopelessly. Why couldn't he have Antonio for a Link? Antonio is like the sunniest person he's ever met, and _he_ doesn't like this Arthur guy. That has to say something.

Still.

Alfred draws himself up. A little rumor isn't going to crush his day.

He arrives at the library among the stragglers. There are about ten people in their group. They stand awkwardly in silence together in the lobby, uncertain of where they're supposed to go. Alfred edges his way to stand beside a short Japanese boy, texting rapidly on his cell phone. The others, he realizes, are equally occupied with their phones.

After a moment, he pulls his decrepit flip phone from his pocket and considers demonstrating its relative indestructibility to the group. He can't really afford fancy gadgets, more of a pay-as-you-go kinda guy. It doesn't help that he's more or less a grandma when it comes to Facebook and Twitter. There just isn't enough time in the day to spend figuring that stuff out. He prefers real life conversations.

"There sure are a lot of books in here," Alfred remarks, gaining himself a glare from the librarian. The other students look at him like he's an idiot. But the Japanese boy snickers. Glad to see someone has a sense of humor.

"Are you lot the first years?"

Alfred jumps, looking over his shoulder to see a short, scruffy guy who seemed to have walked right out of a Polo commercial. He wore a deep burgundy sweater vest with a neatly collared white shirt. Nice tan slacks and a pair of Sperrys. Over his shoulder was a leather satchel that bordered on looking like a purse.

"You're Kirkland?" He says first, somewhat dumbfounded because he hadn't expected this at all. He's either a horrible kind of preppy or incredibly old-fashioned, and Alfred can't decide which.

"Yes," The other man retorts shortly, sharp green eyes coming to land directly on him. "Who are you?"

"Uh, Alfred," Alfred grins uneasily. "Sorry, my RA he uh knew who you were."

Some unpleasant look crosses Arthur's face, but he says smoothly, "Did he? What was his name?"

There was no reason for Alfred to feel like he needed to withold the information. But something about this Kirkland guy was off. He dressed like a suck-up, but it was more the crafty look in his eye that led Alfred to mistrust him. It all seemed like an act, impeccably polished shoes included.

"Oh, I can't remember," he lies, feeling astonished at himself. "I'll have to get back with you on that."

"Yes," Arthur says slowly, a suspiciousness seeping into his tone. "I'd like to know." He turns to the rest of the group officially, standing up straight as a rod. "Alright, I'm Arthur Kirkland. I'm a senior this year. My accent is English and I'm originally from Manchester. I'm majoring in English and History. I think... that should answer all the usual questions. We'll just head out to the lawn now, and do a few icebreakers to get to know each other."

This time Alfred definitely wasn't imagining the distaste in Arthur's voice. He said icebreakers like anyone else would say genocide. The group bumbled out onto the grass and seated themselves in a circle. Except for Arthur, who stood at the head with his arms crossed.

He makes them go around and say where they're from, their names, their intended majors. He doesn't include any of the fun goofy stuff, but Alfred decides to throw his favorite ice cream flavor in there just for kicks. A couple of the girls giggle at him and he tips his hat.

Never has he been met with deeper disgust than when he looks up and meets Arthur's eye. Damn, he's just having a little fun.

"What's your favorite ice cream flavor, Arthur?" he poses innocently, determined to get him to loosen up. The man is a senior this year. Surely, he has a funny bone somewhere in his body.

Arthur's answering smile is so forced it's painful. "I don't much enjoy ice cream."

Alfred's mouth falls open in disbelief. He knows he's only being tolerated, and already walking a thin wire with the one man who's supposed to be his lifeline on campus, but seriously. Who doesn't like ice cream?

"You've got to be joking," Alfred interrupts him once he has his thoughts together.

Arthur had been saying something, but it pales in importance to this.

"Joking about the suicide hotline?" Arthur asks with an evil look in his eye. "Or the part about the counseling services available for troubled minorities?"

Alfred swallows, feeling everybody stare. Damn, his Link is good at turnaround. And mean. "No, sorry," he mumbles, cowed.

"Like I was saying," Arthur continues with a smugness that doesn't really befit the subject of LGBT and racial minority mistreatment. "There are counseling services available particularly for those who fit into certain contexts. These would perhaps assist them more than other forms of counseling. I, of course, am open for discussion with any who may need it."

He says it with the subtlest disdain, Alfred reckons, only because he is required to say it.

He raises his hand. The look he receives is one of intense dislike. "Yes, Alfred?"

"I have a question," Alfred murmurs somewhat vindictively. If he's going to be stuck with this guy for help all year, he'll match him with only the best.

"I believe that's why I called on you," Arthur says shortly.

Alfred grins. "Right. So have you ever had any experience with these services? Are they any good?"

"I can assure you that they are perfectly reputed sources for finding-

"But what about you?" He throws the phrase out challengingly. He's not even sure where he's going with it. He just wants to make Arthur feel uncomfortable.

"I have been trained. If you are worried about it, you can talk with my supervisor." Arthur says impatiently.

"I don't know if I'd feel comfortable talking with you."

"That is why such counseling services exist to serve you, Mr. Jones. You need never come talk to me." His tone goes invariably hard at the end.

Alfred bites his lip, wondering if he ought to back off a bit. This whole thing is capsizing. "Right, but have you ever been to them? How do I know they're good?"

"I have." Arthur says sharply, surprising him. He had expected the answer to be no. "I can assure you that they are very helpful for troubled or questioning students. Have we exhausted your questions yet?"

"Almost," Alfred stares at the ground, clenching and unclenching his fists. "I just really want to know," He looks up through his bangs meeting Arthur's eyes angrily. "How much you don't want to be here right now?"

0 0 0

Of all the impertinent...

For a second, Arthur can't speak. The challenging freshman stares back at him unrepentantly and the others whisper around him, looking both awed and uncertain. Arthur had expected to come across one or two real jackasses. This isn't really a surprise. Freshman are never grateful for freebies, and they become less grateful the more they're given.

But this... _boy_. He isn't the typical snotty, rich kid that makes his way by money alone. No, Alfred is unimpressive at best in his beat-up Nikes and ripped athletic shorts. Somehow he still manages to be a whiner though. Arthur feels a sudden jab of irritation. What had he expected? That college would be a magical dream world set on making his wishes come true? Just wait until he started his classes. They couldn't all be genuine.

Arthur drops his pristine posture and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Okay, I'll be honest with you. I'm an honest man, and I'm meant to guide you through this experience. I'll start with Alfred's question and then I want all of you to ask me something you would be too afraid to ask under normal conditions. I won't report you and you won't report me. You'll get the honest answers you want. And I can stop pretending."

He levels Alfred with his most unimpressed glare. "I'm getting free housing and a sizable cut off my tuition. Does that answer your question?"

Alfred's open-mouthed stare sends a coarse pleasure shooting through him. Honesty is exhilarating. "Next," he drawls, enjoying their shocked stares more than he should.

A grubby hand shoots up.

"Can you talk about alcohol rules?"

Arthur presses his lips together, trying to contain the sudden urge to smirk. Little did they realize how lucky they were that he was their Link. The questions follow that general trend, which he figures is typical of curious freshmen on the loose. Alcohol, drugs, hook-up culture, he's been around long enough to see it all. It's with some affected boredom and condescension that he takes to giving away the Campus Police hideouts and the best abandoned classroom for all myriad of multi-purpose uses.

Only when he's started in on the points system (and how to strategically avoid points while performing point-earning behavior) does he realize he's lost one of his sheep.

The honey-haired freshman with the giant mouth is sitting farther at the top of the grassy hill with his back to them. He seems like typical frat material, so Arthur is surprised that this stuff isn't of interest to him. He slips away from the others to nip any danger of being reported in the bud. He did have a very good track record and he planned on keeping it that way.

"Why aren't you joining with our discussion?" he asks, standing over Alfred with as much authority as he can muster.

Alfred looks up. Shockingly blue eyes flitter over him dismissively. Arthur feels an odd drop in his gut at that.

"I don't drink," Alfred says flatly, turning his gaze back on the trees.

"We were discussing other-

"I don't plan on sleeping around. I don't do drugs. I actually don't want points. But thanks, I'm sure your advice will _really_ help the others."

Arthur has to resist the urge to scowl. "A little heavy on the sarcasm, aren't we? What are you interested in hearing about?"

"I don't know," Alfred begins plucking random blades of grass. "Are the academics good? Do you like your professors? How's the dining hall? Was it easy to make friends? If you could do it all again, would you choose the same university? You know, the stuff you're supposed to talk about."

"Oh, so you want _the tour guide_ version. You'd think you'd heard enough of that."

"I've never taken a tour," Alfred mutters, crushing his handful of grass. "This is the first day I've ever set foot on campus. Excuse me for being a little bit excited." He stands, his gaze making Arthur feel strangely guilty.

"I apologize," he says stiffly, clenching and unclenching his fists. "Would you like me to address those questions?"

Alfred's expression doesn't change. Arthur gets the disconcerting feeling that Alfred can see right through him. In fact, his next words guarantee it.

"I'm not planning on reporting you," He says gruffly. "So you can stop trying."

Arthur watches him walk away with a tight jaw. He doesn't have it in him to care what a wide-eyed freshman thinks. Better he gets his dreams crushed sooner rather than later. Nonetheless, he unceremoniously yanks a cigarette from his bag and dismisses the group. He can't wait until first semester is over and he can be rid of these hopeless brats.

0 0 0

"You what?" Francis hisses in disbelief. From his spot bent over the crappy dorm desk, Arthur smirks.

"We had made an arrangement."

"Well, it seems to me that you just made an arrangement to get kicked out of the program." Francis mutters, watching Arthur finish his mixing and hold up a cocktail to his specifications in the yellow light.

Arthur rolls his eyes, swinging himself to sit on the bed by Francis. "They worship the ground I walk on for that. Any mutiny can only come from one party."

Francis raises one eyebrow. "And that party is?"

Arthur's thoughts flitter reluctantly back to the blue-eyed freshman. "Never mind. No one's going to tattle. It's not like I really did anything wrong. I just offered them some very practical advice."

"I can't trust you to handle anything," Francis removes the cocktail from Arthur's fingers and downs it himself. Arthur's expression turns particularly black.

"There's no one on this floor, but us right now."

"Exactly." Francis sets the glass on the carpet and stretches out on his back across the bed. With painful slowness, he begins to undo each of the buttons of his shirt.

Arthur feels an unusual spike of nerves, glancing uncomfortably at the ground. "Francis, I'd rather-

"Not," Francis finishes his sentence with a roll of his eyes. "I barely saw you all summer. I thought you'd at least allow it once, Master Kirkland."

Arthur scowls, getting jumpily to his feet. "I never liked the arrangement in the first place, frog. I can't help it if you fall in love with me, but I _can_ help it if I fall in love with you."

Francis sighs. "Don't flatter yourself, mon cher. You're an outlet, nothing else. I thought this was why we agreed to RA a floor together."

"Well, then you thought entirely wrong. I'm not always open for business." Arthur crosses his arms, staring hard at the wall. He feels Francis come up behind him, slip his arms around his waist. Francis's rough cheek and feather soft hair brush against the side of his face.

"Oh really? Why is it you agreed then?"

His hands are slipping lower, resting just against Arthur's belt buckle. He doesn't stop them. Instead focusing on Francis's hot breath in his ear.

"I... wanted the free housing."

"You must have a more reasonable excuse than that, Arthur. I know how rich your parents are." Francis's fingers slip under the waistband of his slacks.

"Blast it... The time to mentor underclassmen."

Francis snorts. "That's even worse."

Arthur gasps a little when he feels Francis's hand press insistently _down there_. "One time. That's it."

Francis slips around in front of him, smirking. "That's what you always say."

0 0 0

"I'm glad I'm not the only one," Alfred laughs in relief, beaming at his new Japanese buddy across milkshakes. "I mean I knew I was being kind of rude to him, but he totally didn't want to be there."

"Yes, I didn't think that Arthur wanted to be there much either," Kiku agreed in a soft voice. His accent sometimes makes the words hard to understand, but Alfred appreciates his company all the same. Plus, it's wicked awesome having a friend from Japan.

"We don't actually have to talk to him that much, do we?" Alfred asks.

Kiku frowns carefully. "We have an assembly with our groups tomorrow, and then we have a sexual assault seminar too. I think we're supposed to eat lunch with our group these next two days before the other students arrive."

Alfred groans. "Eat lunch with him? No thanks."

Kiku gives a nervous sort of laugh. "There is a chance he might not show up."

"More luck to us then," Alfred retorts, sucking up a mouthful of whip cream. They fall into companionable silence. The dining hall is mostly empty at nine thirty. Only a few ecstatic freshman load up with the ice cream machine. Alfred has sadly limited himself to one dessert and he forces himself to savor it. No freshman fifteen for him.

Alfred watches the door absentmindedly, thinking that he'll probably get to meet his roommate for the first time when he gets back. The guy has been oddly vacant for the entire day. Lost in his thoughts it shocks him when a rather harried Arthur Kirkland comes charging through the door, holding out his card.

"Speak of the devil," he mutters around his straw and Kiku watches as well.

Arthur heads straight for the burger area and Alfred watches him pile fries onto a plate like he hasn't eaten in days.

"What's up with him?" he asks Kiku, who only shrugs.

A towering plate of fries and beer batter fish clutched in his hands, Arthur makes for a table in the back. He doesn't notice them, but Alfred is struck by how different his manner is as compared to before. He's not wearing his slacks anymore. Instead a ragged pair of holey skinny jeans that look near falling apart and a well worn hoodie even though it's close to 70 degrees outside. He sets the pace like he's in an eating contest. Alfred can't help but watch curiously. Does he have somewhere important to be? Dressed like that?

But...

Alfred's mouth slips open and he completely forgets his milkshake.

"Alfred, you're staring." Kiku tugs lightly on his sleeve to get him to look away. He meets Kiku's warm brown eyes with confusion.

"Is he... crying?"

Kiku shifts in discomfort with the question, giving Alfred an incredulous look when he returns to staring.

For a minute, it seems like a mirage. But in the dim lighting, Alfred recognizes the shine of tears on his Link's face and the quick movement he uses to wipe them with his hoodie sleeve. He continues to eat at record pace, like he's trying to distract himself even.

Alfred glances at Kiku, suddenly feeling just as uncomfortable. "Should I say something to him?"

"I don't think that would be wise," Kiku warns, raising his soft voice seriously.

But Alfred is already standing up, dropping his finished milkshake in the dishes pile. "I'll be right back."

"Alfred, please don't." Kiku hisses like he's in pain. Alfred ignores him, heading first to procure himself another milkshake. What goes better with fries, after all?

Gathering his courage, he carefully approaches Arthur's table. He gets to standing right in front of him before Arthur finally notices. He looks up with a jolt and then a small gasp, rubbing his sleeve quickly across his face and swallowing with a huge gulp.

"Hey," Alfred says, shifting nervously. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd say hi."

"Wh-What do you want?" Arthur snaps at him, an ugly look in his eyes. He tries valiantly to hide his distress, but Alfred can see the sadness in his features.

Alfred bites his lip. "I just brought you a milkshake to go along with those fries. It's kind of a match made in heaven, you know. It'd be a mighty shame not to have them both." He carefully sets the strawberry milkshake next to Arthur's plate, giving him an embarrassed smile.

Arthur stares at it like it's a UFO and then at him like he's an alien.

"Uh, yeah, that's it." He swallows uncomfortably. "I'll see you tomorrow, I guess." He flees before Arthur has a chance to say anything else, cheeks flaming red. He drags Kiku out the door and makes the guy swear never to speak of it. "It's not been 24 hours and I'm already embarrassing myself beyond belief."

0 0 0

Arthur raises the milkshake and sniffs it carefully. He oughtn't to trust something made by a conniving freshman like Alfred, but as he tastes a little on his tongue, he can't find anything wrong with it. How odd of Alfred to come over like that. What was he trying to accomplish by it?

Did he expect to earn some kind of brownie points? Arthur frowns. Well, he can put that idea out of his mind. He's already too far out of Arthur's good graces to ever hope of entering them. Nonetheless, he finishes the whole thing and stares at his table drowsily.

A raw feeling in his belly makes him reluctant to go back to his dorm room. He knows Francis wouldn't have bothered to hang around after he got what he wanted. Yet.

Arthur touches the wet spots on his sweatshirt sleeves, biting his lips. He's being silly again. He knows it. Francis probably doesn't realize he's being so rough. Or maybe he's just gotten more sensitive over the summer. Their usual escapades never bothered him like this before.

Francis's words drift back to plague him. _Don't tell me, Arthur. You're actually hoping to find a serious relationship this year? It's a bit late, don't you think? All the good ones are most certainly taken. You never minded just sleeping together before._

Arthur stares at the empty glass, feeling a sudden nausea wash over him. God, he hates college.

* * *

 **I just wanted to put a note at the end that my Link (I'm currently in my freshman year) is amazing! As rough as this story is starting, there's really a whole lot of good that can come of having an upperclassmen bro.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys!**

 **I wanted to get this chapter up as soon as possible and so haven't really had a chance to edit it! So I'm sorry! haha**

 **I also have got a HALLOWEEN inspired story with a vampire theme for any interested. Your support is much appreciated.**

 **Happy fall, guys!**

* * *

"I know it's late," Alfred pouts, twisting the edge of his sheet around his finger. "But I said I would call, and I did. You can't complain."

His mom sighs dramatically over the phone. "If you don't get better at time management by the end of the semester, I'm coming to take you home, Alfie."

"Ah, shut up, ma," Alfred grumbles, grinning. "I met my Link."

"And?"

"Horrible. I don't know how I'm going to survive. Arthur would sooner throw me to the wolves than give a shred of helpful advice."

"I figured," She chuckles. "How's your roommate?"

"Uh, still not here," Alfred glances at the empty bed beside him apprehensively. "I mean, all his stuff is here. But he is not. Maybe's he's already found a girl that will have him."

"Alfie," His mother begins warningly.

He groans. "Ma, I'm not into that. Come on, you know me. I could have done it in high school if I wanted to, but I didn't. What makes you think college will be different? I've never been that interested in girls."

His mom doesn't answer for awhile before agreeing. "No, you've never been that interested in girls, Alfred. I know. I just don't want you to do anything stupid."

"I won't," Alfred howls indignantly. "I thought you said you trusted me."

"I do. For the most part." Her teasing makes him grin and he continues to tell her about the rest of his day, before hanging up and staring about his empty room.

It's getting late and they have an orientation assembly tomorrow. He settles happily into his new blankets. Things are different than he expected, but not terrible.

0 0 0

In the giant crowd of freshmen, it becomes a nearly insurmountable task to find his group of ten peers. Luckily, he spots Kiku and a couple of the others and they take to forming a clump on the edge of the mass, snatching people that they recognize. Arthur arrives last of all, dressed as impeccably as before. Alfred wonders if he's just imagining the dark circles under Arthur's eyes.

He tiredly shoves a hand into his trouser pocket and produces a crumpled piece of paper. "Kiku Honda?" He calls, going through all of their names.

Alfred shifts when he's reached the end. "Uh, you didn't call me."

"I saw that you were here. I didn't need to," Arthur answers through a yawn. "Well, go on. We don't want to have to stand the whole time. I can assure you that there aren't enough seats in the auditorium for everybody."

Alfred leads the way with Kiku, noticing that several of the other students fall in step with Arthur. Asking him more forbidden questions in low voices. Arthur has become pretty popular now that he's offered up his untamed and uncut knowledge. Alfred rolls his eyes, tugging Kiku along insistently.

Maybe if they can get far enough ahead he won't have to listen to it.

Once they're settled in fold out chairs on the gym floor, Kiku turns his attention to a small handheld and Alfred waits impatiently for the ceremony to begin. It's only a giant welcome and self-congratulations for the accepted class of 2019. Nothing really important. He thinks that he ought to go pick up his textbooks sometime today, but he isn't sure how to get to the bookstore from here.

He glances down the row at Arthur, who has settled back in his chair much the same way Alfred would settle back for a nap. His chin on his chest and his arms crossed. All he needs now is a pair of sunglasses.

The administrative dean takes the podium to welcome them. At first, Alfred allows himself to be buoyed along by their gratifying words. It did take quite a lot of work to get here. Hell, he deserves this. But as congratulations morphs into a giant lecture on rules, Alfred begins to lose interest.

He pulls out his orientation schedule, flipping through until he finds what he's looking for. Kiku has affected a very determined-looking listening face, but the majority of the other students are on their phones. He catches sight of Arthur, now boredly scrolling through Tumblr. Without any shame, Alfred begins the arduous process of texting on a flip phone.

From the corner of his eye, he can't help but watch. A fleeting smirk graces his lips as he sees his Link's features crumple in annoyance. It is quite handy that they pass out Link leader phone numbers with the orientation guides.

His innocent text: _Where's the bookstore?_

Mere seconds later he receives Arthur's response. _Pay attention to the presentation, Jones._

Alfred chuckles. _How'd you know it was me? But I really don't know where it is!_

 _You don't need to know right this second. They didn't give you this number so that you could annoy me._

Alfred smirks darkly. _Says you._

 _Says the administration._

 _But I don't know where the bookstore isssss!_

 _I'll show you after the presentation for fuck's sake. Stop texting me._

Alfred sighs, but lays down his phone. The presentation continues to drag on with no end in sight. _Do you really have to sit through this thing too?_

 _I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to be._

 _That's nice to know... So you like strawberry milkshakes?_

Arthur doesn't respond for so long that Alfred is nearly tempted to look over at him again.  
 _Of course not. I threw it in the trash._

Alfred stares at his phone, before developing a pout. _You threw a perfectly good milkshake in the trash. You monster!_

 _Pay attention to the presentation, Jones._

 _You know, you ought to just use that as your tagline if we're going to keep texting. Bc it ain't happening._

 _Why this sudden interest in pestering me? You seemed perfectly ambivalent to everything I had to say before._

Alfred bites his lips. _Nvm. I'll stop bothering you._

 _Finally._

Alfred doesn't reply back, shoving his phone moodily in his pocket. Assemblies suck just as much in college as they do in high school. Afterwards, he lingers with his Link group on the grass, massaging his sore butt from those suckass chairs. Arthur gives them the usual spiel and tells them all to meet him outside the main dining hall for mandatory lunch later in the afternoon. He doesn't sound too thrilled about spending his lunchtime on a bunch of freshmen.

Alfred waits around until they're the last two. At which point he receives an unimpressed eyebrow raise.

"Uh, bookstore?" He asks in mild annoyance.

"It's downtown," Arthur waves a hand vaguely in the right direction. "It's about a twenty minute walk. Once you get there it's easy to find."

"So which way is downtown?" Alfred looks about the hilly landscape incredulously. Their campus is spread across many acres of trees and woods. Downtown could be just about any direction at this point.

Arthur rolls his eyes, looking taxed. "Check the campus map."

"The campus map is only a map of the campus!" Alfred retorts incredulously. "Are you going to actually help me or not?"

Arthur looks on the verge of saying something really nasty, but instead he shoves his phone in his pocket and fixes Alfred with his full attention. "As it so happens, I have to go downtown today as well. If you can tolerate it, I'll drive you down and point it out. Would that... _help you out_ enough?"

"It would, thanks," Alfred nods vindictively, surprised to see that Arthur is walking in the same direction as he is. "So when do you want to go?"

"After lunch. Meet me in the senior parking lot."

At Alfred's questioning look, he sighs overdramatically. "It's behind Stillman. Have you even looked at the campus map yet?"

"Of course," Alfred grumbles. "I just don't see why I'd need to know where the senior parking lot is." He continues walking up the hill with Arthur. A sudden thought occurs to him. "You live in Stillman?"

"I'm an RA there," Arthur returns, not sounding too happy about it.

"My cousin is living there," Alfred remarks absently.

"Who's your cousin?"

"Matthew Williams. He's a junior."

"Matthew's your cousin." Arthur stops dead to stare.

"Uhh, yeah. We look exactly alike. Why is that a surprise?"

"Well, I don't really know him," Arthur mutters, shaking his head dismissively as he resumes walking. "But I have talked to him before. You're nothing like him."

"Thanks," Alfred gives him a sarcastic smile. "I'm the louder one, I know."

"To say the least," Arthur mutters. "Meet me in the parking lot. Don't be late or I'll leave without you." He saunters off down another walkway, and Alfred watches him go in silence. He wouldn't admit it but he wonders what Arthur is really like amongst a group of seniors.

0 0 0

Getting a little solitude on this godforsaken campus is surprisingly difficult most of the time. Arthur leans against the rough hewn stone of one of the school's more historic buildings. Once again smoking where he shouldn't be. No one is around to point it out. Blessedly.

He listens to the wind in the trees, massaging his wild hair back out of his eyes. It doesn't really feel like senior year yet. Maybe he had wanted it to so bad last year, that he never realized how used to this place he was. Meeting the freshmen, though he refuses to admit it, is certainly an experience.

Now and then, he catches the weird, exciting feelings that seem to be coursing through his small group of protégées. It wasn't noticeable at first, but he sees the way they get all wide-eyed when looking at the towering floors of the library. Or when doing something as simple as using their IDs to unlock the dorm building. He can't even count how many times he's unlocked a dorm building. They should get bored of that by the first week.

But there's still the excitement to come of meeting their first professors and failing their first exams and going to their first parties.

Arthur scowls at the disgusting sentimentality of his thoughts. By no means will he look back fondly on these years, at least not consciously. It's just a little strange to see them so enthusiastic, especially at this time in his life. They seem like little adult children. They make him feel simultaneously ancient and inexperienced.

He knows the ropes of this place like the back of his hand, but after that... They look at him like he's figured everything out. And that is certainly the biggest misconception of them all.

The biggest misconception that he will continue to propagate without a thought. It certainly isn't their place to know his own uncertainties. He doubts any of them have given much consideration to jobs. Oh, sure, they have in that typical elitist school way. They'll go on to dual major in Biochemistry and Physics and become distinguished cardiologists like good old grandpa.

It's laughable to him how much their plans will inevitably change as they realize the freedom they truly have- how much other people's expectations have influenced what they think they want to do now.

There are only a handful of seniors that he knows who kept with their intended major and career plan from freshman year. If he bothers to analyze it, it isn't surprising. The type of people that stick with it are all of a dreary rote category. It's like they'd been born with a purpose to fulfill and only divine intervention would prevent them from fulfilling it. He certainly isn't one of those people.

School tends to get in the way of his fun. Oh, he's always been good at it, but never quite respected it. Now that it's coming to a close, he finds himself at a loss as to how he wants to continue living his life. He supposes he probably should have given it some thought earlier. Still, the prospect doesn't alarm him. He's numb to the whole nasty business.

If need be, he'll borrow some money from his parents and shack up somewhere in Europe with good wine and ace parties. Call it a gap year or something to broaden his mind.

Arthur checks his watch, sighing. Lunch with the freshmen. The smokes have more than sufficiently squashed his appetite, but he drags himself to the main dining hall out of dreary obligation. As he scans his card, he spots his table of freshmen already chatting amiably.

Alfred dressed once again in university gear is waving his hands about animatedly. A growing curiosity causes him to approach without announcing himself.

"... foundation of the universe!" Alfred is all but shouting, jabbing his fork through the air. "If anything's going to help find the cure for cancer, it's biochemistry."

"You really think you'll find the cure for cancer, Al?" asks one of the girls somewhat incredulously.

"I'm sure gunna try," Alfred retorts with a lopsided grin, his bangs falling floppily into his face. "I, personally, don't have to find it, but I've gotta get into the action, ya know? Imagine being part of the team that made that breakthrough!" He seems to puff up as if he's already living the excitement. "Imagine helping all those people! I've got to study biochemistry. There's nothing else so important."

"I'm glad you're so psyched man," Another freshman slaps Alfred on the shoulder encouragingly. Meanwhile, he rolls his eyes behind Alfred's back, causing the girls to snicker.

Alfred doesn't notice. "I just want to help people with cancer," Alfred says through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. His eyes shine with a warmth Arthur could suitably deem insane. But his happy grin dilutes it, making it seem almost like a harmless little boy's ambition. "They didn't do anything to deserve it. It's scary having to go through chemo and stuff and the chance that it might not work. We can do better than that. There's got to be a chemical solution."

"What? You had cancer?" challenges the same girl rather obtusely.

Arthur's eyes flick back to Alfred's face curiously. He pretends to busy himself with getting a plate, but he strains to hear the answer. If only for a good bit of gossip.

"N-no," Alfred shifts uncomfortably. All at once his enthusiastic manner dissipates, leaving him staring uncharacteristically at his plate. "I just care about it is all." He doesn't speak for the rest of the meal not even when Arthur deigns to grace them with his presence.

Arthur tries to put it out of his mind. Understanding Alfred Jones isn't what he would deem a diligent use of time. He tries to immerse himself in the conversation around him, if only to ignore the subdued face of what once was the world's peppiest freshman. The ridiculous stream of horny boy questions that he is abruptly subjected to, however, are doing nothing to help that. Honestly, he had hoped they'd come up with some more original material by now. Eventually, he loses his patience with assuring their fragile egos that there are in fact women with exceptionally low standards who might be willing to take them with a paper bag over their heads.

"I don't have an answer to that." Arthur exclaims in irritable finality, chasing his green beans across the plate. "I'm gay. I couldn't possibly give you accurate information on the fancies of women in this place."

"You're gay?" Alfred blurts, emerging abruptly from his self-imposed isolation. As ineloquent as the boy is, his exclamation is evident on all of their faces.

"I didn't realize there would be such a hoopla about it," Arthur merely raises one eyebrow at the lot, pleased with his knack for getting them all flustered. "Are you uncomfortable with the idea?"

He meant to address all of them, but Alfred, designated spokesperson, stumbles for a good answer.

"N-no. I just hadn't thought about it honestly." He says, looking deeply uncomfortable. Arthur's eyes narrow, wondering if he's going to have to quash an inherent homophobia in his group as well. He's beginning to think the gods have conspired to give him the worst group of freshmen possible.

"You seem uncomfortable to me." He says, unable to resist it. He considers himself on a high enough plane that he wouldn't resort to arguing with first years. Yet, the temptation is growing steadily stronger, directly proportional to the blush on Alfred's cheeks.

"I'm not uncomfortable." Alfred shoots back, looking ready to sink into the floor. "I don't give a damn who you like, alright? I'll meet you in the parking lot." Despite his full plate of food, Alfred dumps it and heads quickly for the door.

Arthur watches him with a growing irritation. As if the boy couldn't be bad enough.

0 0 0

Alfred stands outside in the senior parking lot, wishing Arthur would hurry up and finish eating already. Suddenly, he just wants to head back to his dorm and die. Could he have possibly acted any stupider in there? Arthur probably thinks he's a homophobic freak.

"Just what I need," he grumbles, rubbing his shoe across the gravel.

He had only been surprised. Now that he thinks about it he supposes it's kind of hard to imagine Arthur with a woman, but it's also kind of hard to imagine him with a man. Frankly, he just kind of imagines Arthur alone.

He laughs at the thought despite himself. It would be a very patient significant other that could weather that storm. He isn't sure if he could suffer Arthur's arrogance for longer than the hours he's already been made to suffer.

Haloed in sunshine, he manages to recognize Arthur trooping through the grass towards him. His neat sweater vest and khakis ensemble exudes professionalism, making Alfred wonder if he hadn't just imagined the holey skinny jeans and stained hoodie. Arthur steps up onto the gravel, giving Alfred a surprisingly guarded look.

"My car is the red one over there," he waves one arm towards it, his other arm weighted down by his satchel and a large tote.

"What's that for?" Alfred gestures at the tote curiously.

"To carry my textbooks." Arthur says as if he were stupid. "I imagine you didn't think that far ahead."

Alfred flinches, "I'll manage, I guess." He turns around, letting Arthur lead. "Which one did you say was your car?"

"The red one at the end, I told you that." Arthur grumbles petulantly, fishing for his keys in his trouser pocket.

"The red one..." Alfred trails frowning.

"At the end! Are you really so blind?" Arthur pushes past him impatiently.

"You mean the Porsche?" Alfred asks, unable to help clarifying. Yes, he can see the red car at the end. But there's no way that's Arthur's car.

"Yes, for god's sake did you want to get back before the end of the semester. Get in." Arthur slips into the front seat impatiently, slamming the door. So this was how the people that could pay full tuition lived. Damn.

Alfred can't make himself get in yet, carefully running his hand along the body of the car. The engine roars to life and then falls to a beautiful purr. He's never even had a poster of a car this nice.

Arthur rolls down the passenger side window, face twisted in irritation. "Are you getting in? I will run over your feet if you don't move."

"Alright, alright," Alfred opens the door, unwilling to take the chance. "You do know this car is like 300 thousand dollars, right?"

"Something like that," Arthur agrees, looking distractedly over his shoulder as he backs out. "It was a gift for my birthday last year. I didn't buy it."

"Who would buy you such a nice gift?" Alfred asks, tracing his fingers along the dashboard.

"My parents?" Arthur raises an eyebrow incredulously, though he doesn't look over.

"Fuck, you're spoiled." Alfred laughs in disbelief. "I don't think I could afford a tire on this car."

"No, you probably couldn't." Arthur says, looking a bit prickly from the spoiled comment. "How are you even going to this school?"

Alfred flinches at the disdain in his tone. "Giant scholarship," he murmurs with a little fist pump. "My mom works as an elementary school teacher, so it was amazing that I was able to come at all."

He notices Arthur tighten his grip on the steering wheel. "What about your dad? Doesn't he work?"

"He did. Uh, he's dead, though." Alfred swallows, dropping his gaze to his hands.

"Oh." Arthur turns up the radio deftly. The music fills the silence, but Alfred wishes he would have asked for a ride from Antonio.

At the bookstore, Arthur ditches him without a word. He watches him go, wondering if he's still upset about the gay thing from the cafeteria. Arthur isn't his favorite person in the world by far, but he doesn't have it out for gay people or anything. The subject just makes him uncomfortable. As a straight guy, he doesn't understand it. That's all.

After rounding up his textbooks, he stands in the tremendous line behind Arthur. His arms are already starting to ache like hell. He is so jealous of Arthur's girly tote right now. Arthur is pointedly ignoring him, pretending to be enthralled with the different color ink pens on a nearby kiosk. Alfred gathers his courage.

"Hey, Arthur."

"What, Jones?"

"I didn't mean to insult you. At the dining hall. It doesn't matter that you're gay."

"And you felt the need to bring that up because?"

Alfred withers a little under his cold green eyes. "I didn't want you to think I hated gay people or anything. I just reacted that way for... personal stuff. I was just surprised."

Arthur's expression turns a little quizzical. His thick eyebrows crunch together. "Personal stuff?"

"It's nothing," Alfred says quickly. His cheeks are fast on their way to becoming tomatoes. "I'd rather not talk about it."

The oddest look appears on Arthur's face, almost one of recognition. He shakes his head rapidly and mutters, "Yes, I won't trouble you about it. Don't let it worry you."

Alfred is thrown by the kinder slant of his words. Even Arthur seems a bit embarrassed by his uncustomary courtesy and he becomes enthralled in the various colored inks again.

0 0 0

"I'll see you, later," Alfred waves to him perkily, before turning and jogging towards Curtis Hall. His arms are laden with Chemistry and Calculus books, and even though he seems like a pretty tough guy, he looks near crying under their weight.

Arthur doesn't wave back, wondering what kind of person Alfred must be to jump so sporadically between emotions. For god's sake, he'd been happy about biochemistry, sad about cancer, shocked about gay people, like a kicked puppy about his dead father, and then apologizing and happy and...

Arthur presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, trying to contain the rising headache. He feels generally awful for handling Alfred's nonchalant "My father's dead" announcement, but also angry at Alfred for pouncing it on him like that. How was he supposed to know? The boy is a walking time bomb. It's like every subject has to be handled with utmost care. It's exhausting.

"I need a smoke," He mutters, jamming his hand into his pocket. There's not enough time in the day to worry about someone so wide-eyed as Alfred Jones.

0 0 0

"Got my textbooks!" Alfred shows them spread across his bed to Kiku with a brilliant smile.

"I ordered mine before I arrived," Kiku retorts, from his desk chair, playing a handheld.

Alfred pouts. "I'm beginning to think that you're going to be the prepared one."

Kiku smirks, but says nothing. "How was Kirkland?"

"Not too bad, actually," Alfred scratches the back of his head. "Did you know he drives a Porsche?"

"It wouldn't surprise me."

"Really?" Alfred frowns. "Do most people drive Porsches here?"

Kiku rolls his eyes. "That is not what I meant. Haven't you done any research yet?"

"Research?"

"Like have you googled him?" Kiku says flatly.

"Oh," Alfred waves a finger at him. "Your genius is showing. That is brilliant, Kiku."

"His family donated a large section in the library. It is not beyond reason that they are quite rich," Kiku points out calmly.

Alfred thinks the guy is the chillest badass he's ever met. "You're like a hacker, Kiku. You've got all the information."

"I only googled him, Alfred. Surely, you can too."

"Yeah, but it's easier to ask you," Alfred retorts cheekily, flopping back onto his bed.

"Alfred?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to the party later tonight?"

"The party?" Alfred sits up slowly. "I hadn't heard about it."

"It's in the basement of Stillman." Kiku murmurs. "I saw an open invite on YikYak."

"Is it for upperclassmen?" Alfred asks uncertainly. "Cuz I doubt they would let us in."

"It appeared that way," Kiku shrugs. "If you don't want to try, that's fine. I'm sure we could find some way."

"Damn, you are a badass," Alfred says in awe. "Sure, I'll go, if you want to. There's nothing going on until classes start."

Kiku gives him a small smile. "We'll just have to make sure not to run into a particular RA."

Alfred rolls his eyes. "I bet he won't even be there. He's not that cool."

Kiku abruptly takes Alfred's hand and puts his smartphone in it. "Alfred, please educate yourself through Facebook. Arthur is not at all who you think he is."


End file.
